


Morning Truths

by icarus_chained



Category: Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter (1974)
Genre: Aches and pains, Aftermath, Comfort, Companions, Early Mornings, Friendship/Love, Gen, Morning Routines, Moving On, Post-Movie(s), Sleep, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-06
Packaged: 2018-05-12 06:50:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5656651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icarus_chained/pseuds/icarus_chained
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two days after the destruction of Dr. Marcus' vampires, Hieronymus Grost wakes up with his head pillowed in his friend's lap and struggles to face the day without embarrassing himself further. Kronos, for his part, saw nothing embarrassing at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Morning Truths

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea how many people have even seen [this movie](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RsWAVsRefSg), and given that there's no category for it I'm guessing there's not much of a fandom. I just wanted a little something post-movie regardless, though. So I wrote it. Heh.

The dawn chorus woke Grost, penetrating a rather nice dream in the process. He groaned, squeezing his eyes more tightly shut against the faint, but persistent, pre-dawn light. Somewhere above him, someone chuckled softly.

"Good morning my friend," Kronos said, aggravatingly cheerful but at least blessedly quiet. Grost chanced opening his eyes, blinking blearily up at his friend.

Who was, he realised, rather closer than he had expected. Closer, and more upright. It would appear that, somehow, Grost had managed to fall asleep with his head pillowed in Kronos' lap, while his friend sat upright and on guard against the wheel of the wagon. Grost was covered warmly in blankets, practically buried, while Kronos had kept only one for himself, arranged across his shoulders alongside his coat. His sword was standing upright in the earth a little way from his hand, on the other side to Grost's sleeping form. Good heavens. The man must have been sitting there like that all night.

Grost pulled himself hastily upright, trying to free Kronos from his weight, and then had to pause with a grimace as every muscle in his body loudly protested. His right shoulder, the hunch, did so loudest of all, but that was hardly new. Grost groaned and put most of his weight on his left arm, leaning back against the wheel and biting his lip until the pain had ebbed. The ground was cold, even bundled inside many blankets, and his muscles had stiffened from it overnight. They emphatically did not approve of sudden morning movements.

"Are you all right?" Kronos asked, mild and amused beside him. Grost grimaced, eyeing him unhappily, but remembered his earlier concern quickly enough. He drew himself achingly closer to upright, and looked at his friend in concern.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" he asked, glancingly pointedly between his own nest of blankets and Kronos' sword. "Have you been sitting like that all night? You should have woken me up. Or thrown me off, either. I don't know how I ended up on your thigh, but you needn't have allowed it." 

Kronos smiled at him, slow and bright. "That would have been very rude," he noted, with that faint grin of his. Not mocking. A rare thing in Grost's experience, Kronos' smiles almost never mocked him, and then only gently. It made him very easy to like.

"... So is keeping a man from his rest," he replied, looking carefully away and fishing his handkerchief out of his pocket. He mopped at his face, mostly for something to do that did not involve looking at Kronos. "You needed it more than I, as well. I did not have to face two vampires the night before last. You shouldn't have humoured me."

Kronos shrugged lightly. He looked away, out over the field beyond their little copse campsite, his shoulder resting companionably against Grost's. "It was all right," he said. "There will be no other creatures so close to the vampire's territory. We don't have to worry. I won't need my strength for a few days yet, and I can sleep at any time. You were very tired, my friend, and you seemed to be in some pain. I didn't wish to disturb you."

Grost winced, bringing his left hand up to rub uneasily at his right collarbone. Some pain, yes. It was mostly the cold, a little bit the activity. Forging a sword from a heavy iron cross was not the easiest of tasks, especially followed up by climbing in upstairs windows. He was not frail by any means, nor so deformed that he could not function, but there was often pain after particular exertion. Though, really, that was hardly an excuse. Kronos, again, had _fought two vampires_. If there was anyone here to claim pain from exertion, it really shouldn't be Grost.

Perhaps Kronos sensed the thought, or only noticed the expression on Grost's face. He shook his head and nudged lightly against Grost's arm. "Come now, it's not that bad. Was I a terrible pillow, for you to regret it so?" He was smiling when Grost looked at him, that quiet little twinkle of his eyes, and in the face of it Grost sighed. He could see that he would have to give up on his grumpiness and vague sense of shame. Kronos would not be having otherwise.

"You're a wonderful pillow," he allowed, carefully refraining from smiling himself. "It's only that it's undignified, that's all. Going to sleep in a man's lap. If I were a child it would be one thing, but ..."

Kronos chuckled. "You are far from a child, my friend," he said, warm and easy as he lifted his arm and arranged it carefully over Grost's shoulders. "You are not undignified, either. Some men gain dignity from what surrounds them. Others carry it inside them in spite of all the world. You are the latter kind, I think. You wear your dignity in your soul."

... Oh. Well, Grost thought, blinking carefully in the early morning light. Well then. That put that point rather beyond reach of argument, didn't it?

He relaxed into his friend's arm, eased loose his stiffened, aching muscles and tucked his chin against his chest with a little smile of his own. Why refrain? If Kronos thought this was a morning for being easy, for relaxing without shame or worry, why argue with him? They had defeated evil not so long ago. Though it had cost them a dear friend, they had cleansed two monsters from the face of the earth, and freed a village from the shadow of their wickedness. That was permission enough to take some comfort in each other, was it not?

"You do a fine line in flattery," he said, smiling happily at his friend. "I have always liked that about you. It's a very cheering thing to be around."

Kronos blinked, slow and thoughtful. "Is it flattery to speak the truth?" he wondered lightly, and shook his head. His smile had faded off, leaving only a calm, peaceful look in his eyes, a little glimmer of cheer and amusement. It was a far happier look than the bitterness that sometimes lurked there. It suited him much better. "Come then, Grost, my friend. Since you are awake, we should have breakfast. Perhaps I will sleep a while in the wagon when we move off. We can tie my horse to the tailboard. You can drive, and I can take back a little of my rest, hmm?"

Grost nodded approvingly, swiping a knuckle along his nose as he braced himself to start moving again. "That sounds like a plan to me," he said, heaving his way to his feet with the help of the wagon wheel and a hand at the end from Kronos. He held on to that a minute, gripping it warmly while he looked at the man, knowing very well that it was more than casual concern in his face. "You should take more care of yourself, you know. In general, not just when we have vampires to face. You shouldn't indulge me so much."

Kronos only looked at him a moment, their hands still clasped together. There was something odd in his expression, neither peace nor bitterness but something soft and in between. His lip curved. "And who else would I indulge in this world, if not you?" he asked, so softly it was almost to himself, and slipped his hand from Grost's with calm inevitability. He shrugged, strangeness disappearing and lightness falling back across it. "Come on. I'll wake the fire. You find us something edible, yes?"

"... Yes," Grost echoed, only a little faintly, and then he shrugged the oddness off himself. He straightened up, and went to see them both fed and watered in good time. It was the way of it, after all. Their way, the two of them, since they'd started this business of fighting darkness. Odd as it was, it worked, and what more could you ask than that? 

It would be a good day, he decided, while he pulled meat and wine contemplatively out of a bag. He looked up, blinked peaceably to himself in the rapidly brightening light of morning, and nodded. Yes. Today would be a good day. He was sure of it.

And in such matters, as in many others, Hieronymus Grost was very rarely wrong.


End file.
